Too Bad She's Off Limits
by ZevieObsessed2012
Summary: Zander Robbins will do anything for a girl, everyone knows that. But for his best friends, he'll drop everything and come running. When his best friend Stevie Baskara experiences her first heartbreak, he's there to try and cheer her up—all the while, reminding himself that he's deemed her off-limits. Short one-shot. Semi-inspired by Jellybean96's Alt. Ending of "Breaking Point".


**A/N: Slightly inspired by Jellybean96's "Breaking Point - Alternate Ending". Hopefully you enjoy!**

_**Chapter 1**_

_**ZANDER's POV**_

Stevie was silent the entire car ride to her house. I drive her to school and then back home. Sometimes we go to my house but Stevie had said she just felt like going home today. When I pulled into her driveway, she mumbled a goodbye and practically ran inside. For a minute, I figured it was nothing but then again, she was pretty quiet all day.

I shut the car off and shoved my keys into my pocket. I walked up the porch steps and thankfully the house was unlocked (I was here often, but I didn't have a key, and there wasn't any place to hide one). I walked into the house and called, "Steves?"

She didn't answer back. I stood awkwardly in the front hall for a minute. Do I go check on her? I wondered.

I walked around the house for a few minutes and then decided she was probably in her room. I walked up the stairs and pushed her door open.

"Steves?"

She sniffled quietly and mumbled, "Zander, please... just go home. I want to be alone."

Was she crying? I'd never seen my best friend cry, and it did make me feel awkward but sympathetic too.

"Steves, you're crying. Of course I'm not gonna leave you alone."

She scoffed, annoyed, and said, "I'm fine. Now go home."

"I'll go if you tell me why you're upset. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Stevie sighed and kept her back to me. She held a pillow close to her chest and cried silently. I laid down beside her, her back still to me, and waited for her to stop crying.

"...Austin broke up with me... before school this morning. I still have the text..."

I almost laughed, but she was hurt, so I didn't.

"Steves, any guy who breaks up with you through text message is not worth your time. Clearly he was too afraid to tell you straight out." I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly and watched as she frowned even more—if that was even possible.

"I know," she mumbled, hugging the pillow tighter and fighting tears.

"Oh," I said softly. "I get it. It's your first heartbreak isn't it?" I asked her, watching as she turned to face me. Her bed wasn't very big, but if she moved a little closer, we'd fit perfectly.

"Yeah," she replied. Her eyes were puffy and red and the corners of her lips were as low as they could go. "It sucks."

I chuckled quietly, "I know the feeling."

Although we'd kept our relationship strictly platonic, I had developed some feelings for my best friend and I found myself… protective? Angry? This guy broke up with—and hurt—my best friend over text message? I wouldn't stand for it. I sat up and pulled a reluctant Stevie with me.

I moved her hair aside and wiped my thumbs under her eyelids to dry her tears—thankfully she didn't like wearing makeup.

"You know what my dad and I did when I had my first heartbreak?"

"What?" she sniffled, rubbing her eyes. Stevie Baskara was the only girl I'd ever known who was into the least girliest things imaginable—take her family's Christmas tradition, Tackle Charades, for instance. Or that almost all her clothes— mostly plaid shirts and combat boots came originally from her older brothers.

"Well, actually, my dad helped me through my first heartbreak. And I know you're not the girl that'll go out and buy new shoes—though maybe you should since you only have one pair," I teased, lightly poking her side and feeling accomplished when she cracked a small smile.

She whacked my arm and then said, "How did your dad help you?"

I laughed, "We played videogames all night—he let me skip school the next day—and then we pigged-out on junk food. Least girliest thing you can imagine, right?"

Stevie's lips quirked a little into a small smile as she said, "I like it. Let's do that!"

So we drove back to my house with a bag full of Stevie's clothes. We'd stop by the nearest store and bought a ton of candy—and even some we absolutely hated—and then drove off to my house. As we walked into the kitchen, there was a note from my parents on the fridge that said:

_Zander,_

_Aunt Deborah's hosting a dinner tonight. We know you won't want to come, so put some meatballs in the crockpot for you. You can make whatever pasta you'd like._

—_Mom & Dad_

My Aunt Deborah was the definition of La La Land, and everything had to go her way. Her kids were "perfect", her life was "perfect", she was "perfect". If her kids got into trouble, I was automatically a part of it and that's because of an incident that happened between my dad and Aunt Deborah years before. Aunt Deborah was the bane of my existence to put it lightly.

"Huh... well, Mom and Dad are out until who knows how long. Know what that means?" I asked Stevie, raising my eyebrows slightly. She smiled slightly and pulled my PearPhone from my pocket. Swiping the lock and putting in the passcode—0721, the day we became friends, right before school started—she put the phone in the speaker dock and turned it up as loudly as she could.

I laughed, at least she was smiling. She knew where everything was, so as I picked a song, she got the pasta out.

Of course, it was Ziti—"Rigatoni is too thick, Zander!"

"Well what about spaghetti?"

"Spaghetti is boring," she laughed.

—Ziti was Stevie's favorite pasta. We argued about it once because I wanted spaghetti or rigatoni, but Stevie insisted endlessly on Ziti. I gave in eventually, and Stevie's always made the best pasta and sauce, so I stopped doubting her suggestion of Ziti.

I turned to the stove as _Really Don't Care_ blasted and Stevie burst out laughing—a real laugh, too and I smile, and I knew she was getting ready to tease me about my choice of song.

"Really, Zander? Demi Lovato and Cher Lloyd?" she asked amused. I wasn't embarrassed because at least she wasn't thinking about her rotten ex-boyfriend.

I shrugged, laughing, and replied, "So what? I'm a guy, Steves, but that doesn't mean I don't get celebrity crushes, _Mrs. DiCaprio_." I teased, sticking my tongue out at her.

She rolled her eyes and then started boiling water for the Ziti.

She and I even danced around the kitchen a little bit as the song played out, "See, Steves? Perfect song, eh?" Except I did most of the dancing and she did most of the resisting and laughing. So, this wasn't the least girliest part, but Stevie was enjoying herself at least.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. I didn't bother to mention her ex's name or anything about him the whole night—she was smiling and I didn't prefer to ruin her good mood. I spun her around and sung Cher's part, word for word. Stevie doubled over laughing.

She wasn't the kind of girl to mope about over an ex-boyfriend, which is what I liked about her. I really did like Stevie. In fact, I think I was in love with her. But she was vulnerable no matter what. I couldn't tell her my feelings. We'd both get hurt...

So I made sure to remind myself that Stevie was _off-limits_.

We'd let the pasta run a little too long though and after the food was ready, Stevie and I laughed as we managed to force-feed ourselves mushy pasta and tomato sauce. It wasn't very good, but it _was_ highly amusing.

"That was disgusting," she laughed, rinsing her plate off in the sink. I nodded in agreement. "I promise you my cooking is usually way better than that."

"I believe you," I chuckled. I clapped my hands together and said, "So... old comedies or videogames first?" Of course, Stevie went for the old comedies, which I didn't mind. Tonight wasn't about me though, it was about getting my best friend back to her happy self.

So far, things were working out perfectly.

After that, we'd found the PlayStation 2 system—my dad kept this thing for years—and so after we set it up, we played a bunch of guy games, like anything sports-related or full of blood, guts and terror. Stevie laughed the whole time—part of me thought maybe she was thinking about Austin every time she blew something up or bled all over the place, or fell and died.

By about midnight, my parents had gotten home and I was relaxing on the pull-out-bed couch in the living room with Stevie curled up against my side asleep. I had the TV on low and tons of wrappers lay all over the place from the candy we inhaled.

My teeth were a bit sensitive just thinking about how much we'd eaten, but overall the night was great. I had one arm behind my head and the other was underneath Stevie and around her waist. I held the remote in that hand. My legs were crossed, one over the other, and Stevie was lying half on top of me.

She was curled up into the tiniest ball possible. My mom and dad stood in the doorway, not very pleased with how much of a mess we'd made. My mom said, "I take it this is another one of your sleepovers?"

My parents have always loved Stevie, and they always made sure she knew that.

"Look, Mom," I whisper quickly, "Stevie's… she's going through her first heartbreak, so I was just trying to cheer her up. Look, we'll clean it up tomorrow, okay?"

"Zander, you both have school tomorrow—"

"—Remember my first heartbreak? You let me stay home? Just let me stay here with Stevie tomorrow, we'll clean up and we'll go back to school the day after—"

"—Zander, I'm not her mother, I can't decide that—"

"—Mom, come on. I'll even talk to her parents, but you know Stevie. She's a really tough girl… this heartbreak is really getting to her. Just let us stay home tomorrow?"

"Fine, I'll call her parents in the morning, but for now, try to get some sleep—don't stay up too late. I want this room spotless and wrapper free tomorrow, got it?"

"Yes, Mom," I grinned. My mother left the room and I looked down at Stevie, sleeping beside me. She was wearing one of my t-shirts that I'd given her months ago and a pair of shorts which I'm guessing once belonged to one of her brothers.

Her chest rose and fell evenly and she looked calm. Happy even, and it made me smile. I knew Stevie wasn't completely over the heartbreak—though she would pretend not to feel anything anymore—but I felt complete having made her feel better.

If she was with me… I wouldn't break her heart—or at least I wouldn't try to. Too bad I'd already sworn she was off-limits. I pull her a little closer to my side and shut the TV off. I toss the remote onto the floor and then close my eyes. Oddly, sleep comes to me quickly…

**A/N: So that's that. This is just a one-shot of how Zander feels; I decided to take a break from usually darkish writing…**


End file.
